


Stranded

by Mamapotterhead2492



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:25:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamapotterhead2492/pseuds/Mamapotterhead2492
Summary: After an accident in Diagon Alley, Hermione and Draco end up stranded together on a deserted island, forced into cohabitation. Hermione adamantly tries to find a way home, while Draco whines. Along the way the lines blur and feelings change. When they return to Hogwarts where will their loyalties lie? And what does a little wild boar have to do with any of it?





	1. Crashdown

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to writerspassion18 for the idea.

_Darkness. Just darkness._

_Where was she?_

 

_Odd, she couldn’t move…_

 

_What was that on top of her?!_

 

_And why did it smell so bloody good?_

 

 

_Silence. Surrounded by silence._

 

_What the devil had he landed on?!_

 

_Why was it moving?_

 

_Why was it covered in such thick, curly fur in this arid temperature?_

 

 _Why did it smell like fresh parchment and Sleakeasy’s?_  

 

 

 

She recognized that smell. It was the same expensive French cologne that made her nearly choke. Not because it smelled bad, but because of who wore it. 

 

“Malfoy, would you kindly GET. OFF. ME!” 

 

The body on top of her shifted slightly before hastily moving away from her. 

 

“GRANGER?! What are you playing at? What the… Where the hell are we?” 

 

Hermione opened her eyes slowly and blinked a few times at the bright sun. She could practically taste the salt in the billowing winds. For a island surrounded by water, there didn't appear to be any moisture in the air. This was NOT going to be good for keeping her hair under control. 

 

“That’s a brilliant question, Malfoy… I’m surprised you came up with it. Where are we?” 

 

She stood and dusted the sand off her new summer dress. Her hand moved to shield her eyes as she searched the desert-like expanse in front of them. It. Was. Deserted. Not even a shred of evidence of previous human inhabitants.

 

“Well Granger, I came up with it because I _am_ brilliant, although it probably escaped your notice. It appears to be an island of some sort.” 

 

Hermione nodded and fished into her purple beaded bag for her sunglasses. 

 

“Excellent deduction. Now, hush, Malfoy, the girl genius is thinking,” she quipped, sliding the thick plastic frames up her nose.

 

“Wouldn’t it be wise to find shelter while we still have daylight?” Draco asked, not fond of how she dismissed him so easily. 

 

“ _Obviously_ , Malfoy. But I don’t see any materials lying about, do you?”

 

“Well no, but… there’s a wooded area in that direction. Wait!” 

 

He bent to pick up a small twig, lying on the sand. Hermione gazed at him murderously (not that he could see it).

 

“Are you being serious? One tiny twig? Why yes, Draco,” she clapped her hands together dramatically, “That will keep us dry from the rains of the tropics, for sure! I applaud your ingenuity.” 

 

 Draco threw it down at her feet. He missed her toes by a few centimeters. She jumped backwards and scowled up at him. 

 

“What now?” 

 

“Come on, let’s head for the trees. Maybe we can make it there by nightfall, if i don't strangle you first.”

 

She took off, leaving a baffled Draco behind. 

 

“So, what do you reckon happened that got us here?” Draco rambled as Hermione hiked up a rocky hill ahead of him. 

 

“Well, we were in Diagon Alley before this, weren't we?” she asked, observing the landscape of the now wooded, shaded and much cooler area. 

 

“Yes. I was passing by you at Florean’s when I was bumped into….” 

 

“And I was about to apparate to a beach, but not this beach. Perhaps in the confusion, I sent us to the wrong beach.” 

 

“Hermione?”

 

“What, Malfoy?” 

 

“Couldn't we just...apparate off this island?” 

 

Hermione turned to find him staring at the sky. 

 

“We could… if one of us had a wand.” 

 

Draco fished in his pockets for his wand. 

 

“Bollocks! You don’t have your wand?”

 

“If I did, don’t you think I would have apparated away from you, by now?” 

 

“So if neither of us have our wands, how, pray tell, are we going to build a shelter?” he asked. 

 

Hermione smiled. 

 

“Good old-fashioned muggle labor, with our bare hands. You are going to work for your necessities.”

 

Hermione watched in amusement as Draco’s face contorted with horror at the idea of having to do anything remotely physical. 

 

“What?!” 

 

“Welcome to what the muggles call ‘camping’, Malfoy.” 

 

Now he was obviously, physically, upset. Hermione almost felt bad for toying with him. 

 

“What about food? Water? Pumpkin juice?” 

 

“We will have to find it, out in nature. Foraging for berries, other fruits, maybe even gut a small animal.” 

 

“What about what’s in that...that bloody beaded bag?” 

 

“I have a few things, but most of it won't help us in our current situation.”

 

“Aren't muggles ‘always prepared,’ or some such rubbish?”

 

Hermione scoffed. 

 

“Those are the Boy Scouts… in _America_ , Malfoy.” 

 

She turned and began to trek away from him. He followed behind nervously, not wanting to be left behind. 

 

 

They found a clearing just as dusk nestled into the trees. 

 

“So, what now?” 

 

“Now, we build a shelter.”

 

“...In the dark?”

 

“It’s not dark, its dusk, and we’re surrounded by shrubbery.” 

 

“ _We_ aren't bloody doing anything! _You_ can build a shelter all by yourself,” he snapped . 

 

“Fine.” 

 

She sat down on the ground and began rifling through her beaded bag. After a few minutes of searching, she found what she desired. She pulled out a black duffle-like rucksack with two fabric handles. Unzipping it, she fished out several slender sticks and large pieces of fabric. She stood again and started arranging them on the ground. 

 

Draco watched lazily as she pieced it all together. When he caught onto what it was, his mouth fell open. 

 

“You have a tent?!” He was gobsmacked.

 

“Yes.” She was making sure everything was placed in the right spots. 

 

“This whole bloody time you’ve had a tent, but you led me to believe we’d have to build a shelter?!”

 

“Yes. You insinuated that we would need to build a shelter, so I neglected to mention I had a tent.”

 

“Well I’m relieved. I won’t have to do any work.”

 

“Oh, Malfoy, no. _I_ have a tent. _You_ will have to forage the darkening forest for sticks to build a shelter. Have fun.” 

 

He stared at the back of her head in disbelief. 

 

“I’m not going into a strange forest by myself! Who knows what sorts of muggle creatures are waiting to tear me to bits in there!” 

 

Hermione grumbled to herself about the creatures of the night doing her a favor.

Then she looked at him and smiled. 

 

“Are you scared, Malfoy?” 

 

Draco’s face changed and he looked at her angrily. 

 

“I am not _scared_ Granger, I am… _cautious_. I’m in alien terrain with who knows what sorts of creatures milling about... “ 

 

Hermione snorted. 

 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, we don't have any werewolves, vampires, inferi, or any half-human, half-snake egomaniac dictators…”

 

Draco looked around nervously. “Come with me.”

 

Hermione looked at him as if he was an escaped St. Mungo’s patient.

 

“What?” 

 

“Please? I really don't want to go alone.” 

 

“So, Mister macho Death Eater needs the help of a muggleborn so he doesn't get eaten by wildlife? That’s rich.” 

 

“Fine. I’ll go by myself since you want to give me attitude. Enjoy your tent.” 

 

He turned and strode confidently away from her into the brush. His head had just disappeared into the darkness when a shriek echoed off the tree trunks. Hermione stifled a laugh as he came sprinting back towards camp. 

 


	2. Cohabitation

Collapsing to his knees, he took deep breaths and eyed her helplessly. She let ripples of laughter fall from her lips as she watched him. 

 

“What happened?” 

 

“I went to pick up a log and scared this… pig-like creature out of the brush.”

 

Hermione nearly fell over from laughing.

 

“Draco Malfoy…. Scared of a wild boar? We could’ve cooked it.” 

 

“I’m not going anywhere alone anymore. And I’m commandeering your tent.” 

 

“Excuse me? You’re what now?” 

 

“I am sleeping in your tent. _You_ can sleep outside with the wild animals.” 

 

She stood and walked towards her tent, ignoring him. Digging into her beaded bag again, she fished out a sleeping bag. She chucked it at him and retreated into the tent. 

Draco followed her.

 

The size of the inside of the tent amazed him. 

 

“This is huge. Remind me why I can’t sleep in here with you?”

 

“It’s a matter of principle, Malfoy.”

 

Draco stared her down. He would NOT sleep outside. 

 

“I’m going to get undressed. Unless you want to see that… Out!” 

 

Hermione waited until he left the tent and stripped off her dress, stuffing it into her beaded bag. She stripped off the undergarments beneath it and fished for her bathing suit. Finding the tasteful two piece, she put it on quickly, adding cargo shorts so that Malfoy didn’t completely lose his faculties. 

 

Draco was sitting on the sleeping bag waiting when she came and got him. 

 

“Come on, it looks like it might rain.” She ushered him inside, knowing she really should let him sleep outside in the cold. 

 

He settled for the floor, leaving her the small sofa that the tent housed. She turned away from him, eager for daylight so she could find her wand and get the hell away from him.

 

“Granger?” 

 

She grimaced. 

 

“What, Malfoy?”

 

“You look great in a two piece.”

 

“Keep it in your pants Ferret-Boy.” 

 

He chuckled. 

 

“Thanks for not leaving me to the elements.”

 

“Don’t mention it. Unlike some, I don’t have a heart of stone. Besides, if you’re going to get chased around by wild animals while shrieking like a scared two-year-old, I want Harry and Ron here to witness it.” 

 

Now was her turn to laugh. 

 

“Goodnight, Granger.” He almost whispered. 

 

“Go to bed, Malfoy.” 

 

 

 

The next morning, Draco woke from a peaceful slumber to a clanging outside the tent. He ignored his morning ‘problem’ and got up to investigate. 

 

He was not expecting what he saw. 

 

Hermione was bent over in front of a fire, stoking it and turning some meat on a stick. Her shorts were shorter than anticipated and she wore a flannel tied in a knot above her navel. Draco didn’t understand why his stomach twisted and he felt hot under the collar seeing her this way. He recognized arousal, sure, but this was Granger. Her normally out-of-control hair was tied up in a ponytail, and he had some ideas about how to use it.

 

He found himself getting lost in the somehow perfectly-curved shape of Hermione’s arse when he heard a snort. Draco jumped when he saw a small brown and black wild boar tied to a nearby tree. 

 

“What the bloody hell is that thing doing here?” 

 

Hermione looked up and laughed. 

 

“I found him, rooting around the tent and he led me to his mum and dad, who are now currently roasting. I thought you might like to be reunited with your little friend.” 

 

“Friend?! FRIEND?!?! That little… creature nearly murdered me last night!” 

 

“Don’t be so bloody dramatic, Malfoy. He’s only a danger to bugs. He doesn’t eat flesh. You’re safe. Besides, I’m sure you’d taste horrible.” 

 

She didn’t look at him. 

 

“Want to find out?” he asked, the initial shock wearing off.

 

Hermione peered back at him and scowled, shaking her head. 

 

“Not interested. Besides, what would Lucius say? We should eat, pack up the tent and then see if we can’t find our wands and get the hell away from each other.” 

 

She took the now browning meat off the stick and offered a piece to Draco. He looked at the meat in her hands and then to the pig sniffing at his feet. Shaking his head, he pushed her hand back toward her. 

 

“Fine, but I don’t want to listen to you whine later because you’re hungry,” she scolded. 

 

“I’m not a child, Granger,” he protested petulantly. 

 

“Then quit acting like one, Malfoy.” 

 

His mouth opened and shut again quickly. 

 

Hermione didn't wait for him to reply before she stood. She walked around him and began to tear down the camp. Draco looked down at the wild boar, still rooting around his feet. He knelt down and scratched the small animal between the ears. It responded by rolling over onto its back. Draco smiled and scratched its belly. 

 

“It’s nice to see you boys getting along.” 

 

Draco jumped, scaring his new friend, who righted himself and tramped away from him. Draco’s heart sank.

 

Merlin, what was this island doing to him? First the attraction to Granger, and now making friends with wild animals? This was lunacy. He tried to ignore how her dark-violet bikini top shifted against her chest. He imagined shifting it aside with his hand and….

 

His thoughts were interrupted by her snapping her fingers in front of his face. 

 

“Earth to Malfoy… Come on, pretty boy! Let’s move. Grab your child so we can head to the beach.” 

 

His eyes focused in on her face for a few seconds, and then took a little jog to her cleavage. 

 

“Sorry, coming,” he replied. 

 

Hermione scowled at him. 

 

“What is wrong with you?” she asked. 

 

Draco wished he had an answer to that. He supposed it could be heat stroke from the tropical temperature, but this was mental. What was there to be attracted to with Granger, anyhow? She was stubborn, condescending, swotty, a know-it-all. But she was also forbidden (by his father’s standards), smart, sarcastic, witty, beautiful…. fuck, he was falling in love with her, wasn't he? He shook his head in disbelief. Infatuation maybe, but not love.

 

Instead of everything running through his mind, he supplied

 

“I have no bloody idea. Come on, you blasted pig!”

 

Hermione laughed as she walked away from him. 

 

“You haven’t thought of a name for it yet?”

 

“Why would I name it?” 

 

“Because he’s yours, now.” she replied. 

 

Draco studied the small creature. He supposed it was better than a viper or a cat. 

 

“What do you name one of these…”

 

“Wild boar,” she answered. 

 

“Precisely. Shall we go historical? Abraxas? Maybe even Salazar?”

 

“If you name him after any former Slytherins, I will cook him.”

 

Draco picked up the nameless pig and hugged him defensively. Hermione looked back at the duo and laughed.

 

“Great Godric, you got attached fast!” 

 

“Well then, if not historical, perhaps color-related? Noir or Rouge since he’s black and reddish brown?” Draco muttered to himself. 

 

Hermione stopped and turned. 

 

“I’ve got the perfect name!” 

 

“What?” Draco tried to mask his doubt. 

 

“Put him down first,” she motioned. 

 

Draco obliged hesitantly. The pig looked personally affronted to have to walk on the ground. Draco found himself wondering when the pig had adopted his mannerisms. 

He watched Hermione pat her thighs invitingly. 

 

“Here, Draco Junior! Here, boy!” she called. 

 

The pig scampered over to her happily. Draco scowled. 

 

“That is _not_ his name.” 

 

Hermione picked the animal up and cuddled him, cooing as she scratched the patch of fuzz between his ears. 

 

“Good Little Draco.” She nuzzled the pig. 

 

“How is that not naming him after a former Slytherin?” he asked. 

 

Hermione laughed. 

 

“Because you’re not a former Slytherin, you’re a current Slytherin. And besides, you’re his _daddy_ ,” she cooed sarcastically. 

 

Draco snatched his pig back from her and scratched his chin. 

 

“I am NOT!” he protested. 

 

“Try telling him that. Good Draco Junior!” 

 

She moved to scratch the same spot between his ears again. 

 

“Besides, it’ll be refreshing to have a Draco that actually listens to reason,” she quipped, turning back to their trek.

 

“You know, technically, that makes you his Mummy,” Draco retorted. 

 

“No.” She was adamant.

 

“Who rescued him? Who could have fried him up with his parents, but didn't?” he pointed out. 

 

“Way to make it awkward, Malfoy.” 

 

“You’re welcome.” 

 


	3. Beached

They reached the beach in no time at all. But Hermione wasn’t sure they would find their wands. The beach was huge and the smallest shift in the sand could bury their wands beyond their line of sight. 

 

“Where do we start?” Draco asked, looking around. 

 

Hermione tried to remember where they had landed, hoping to start there and work outward, but her mind was fuzzy. She remembered a large striped rock. As she gazed on, she spotted it.

 

“Get to digging. We were over by that rock.” She ushered him forward. 

 

He looked at her like she was barking. 

 

“I’m staying right here!” He dramatically plopped down on the rock with Draco Junior by his side. 

 

Hermione shook her head. 

 

“You stubborn-arse snake! Do something for yourself for once! You might have some self-worth beyond your bank account.” 

 

She sounded exasperated. Draco ignored her comment and played with Draco Junior. The pig was growing quite fond of him, and strangely he was quite fond of it, as well. It didn’t take long for that to get boring, so Draco decided to cool off. He began by slipping off his trainers, then slid his khaki trousers down his legs and off. Next his shirt went flying off, comically landing on Draco Junior’s head. 

 

“Fancy a dip, Granger?” he asked.

 

“No, I’d really like to find my wand. Thank you though, Malfoy.”

 

Hermione turned toward him and was flabbergasted. _Who knew Malfoy had abs like that?_ She found herself suddenly less worried about finding her wand and more so with watching Draco run to the water in a pair of stark white shorts. Biting her lip and trying to busy herself with digging through sand, she snuck glances at him. 

 

Draco loved the feel of the cool salty water running down his abs in thick rivulets. He looked back to the beach and saw Draco Junior pacing back and forth at the water’s edge. He waded closer to shore and sprinkled the sweet pig with water. It made the creature shiver. 

 

Hermione tried hard to ignore Draco, but he was making a spectacle of himself and she couldn’t help but glance up every few seconds. After he got the pig involved, she was a goner. She untied her flannel shirt and tossed it to lay beside his discarded garments. Her cargo shorts came next. 

 

That caught Draco’s attention. His eyes snapped up from his new furry companion to the suntanned, violet-clad goddess striding down the beach toward him.

 

 _Bloody hell, kill me now. She’s perfection, literal perfection_. He was suddenly, painfully aware of a swelling problem. Turning from her, he adjusted himself. She stopped just shy of him.  

 

“On second thought, a dip sounds marvelous.” 

 

With that notion she took off at a run, colliding with the water gracelessly. Draco followed moments later. They splashed each other like children and played in the water together. When they both resurfaced at the same time, millimeters apart, Draco couldn’t help but stare at her beauty. His gaze penetrated Hermione. 

 

They shared eye contact for a spell, before Draco drew closer to her. His hands fell to her hips and her bottom lip dropped open. Draco dipped his head to suckle on it gently. Hermione responded by pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Draco felt himself growing again. He wanted to turn away, but her kiss was simply intoxicating. Her hands fell to his shoulders and he pulled her hips against his. 

 

In an instant, it was over. She pulled completely away from him and slapped him hard, stalking out of the water. Her clothes were collected in a flash and he stood in the water, completely shocked. 

 

 _What the hell happened?_ he asked himself as he trudged back to the clearing; their wands, and Draco Junior forgotten. 


	4. I'm Sorry

That night, Draco slept in the sleeping bag, cuddled up with Draco Junior, who returned to the clearing an hour after they had. He wanted nothing more to be beside her on the floor, but she had made it clear she didn't want to be disturbed. Wand or not, Draco did not want to bother her. 

 

 

When he woke up the next morning, the tent was gone. No breakfast, no rustling, not even a rooting pig. Draco sighed and stood, stretching. He trekked to the beach to find her on her knees, furiously digging through the sand . Smiling, he made his way toward her and bent to help her. 

 

“Go away,” she muttered, not looking up.

 

“Hermione, let me help you. That way you can get as far away from me as bloody possible.” 

 

“I can manage by myself.” 

 

He hesitated before stopping her hands with his. 

 

“Look, I know we hate each other. But if we both search for our wands, we’re more likely to find them.” 

 

She closed her eyes as if collecting herself.

 

“Why do you have to be right? I’m still furious at you for kissing me, but you’re right… If we work together, the sooner we’ll find them and be away from each other.” 

 

“At least until school starts, then we’ll be forced into cohabitation.”

 

“Why did you have to remind me?”

 

“To irritate you, like usual. I think it’s in my job description.” 

 

He smiled when she laughed. 

 

“I think you’re right.” 

 

He began digging in the sand while Little Draco sniffed around their bare feet. 

 

 

 

After three hours’ work, they still found nothing. 

 

“How can two magical instruments just bloody disappear? This is maddening!” Hermione howled angrily. 

 

“Hermione, calm down, it’s just been a day and a half. They’ll turn up eventually. Whether it be the tide, or we just happen upon them, we’ll find them.” 

 

Hermione looked at him and huffed. 

 

“I don’t like you being the voice of reason. It’s scary.” 

 

“Scarier than Voldemort?” 

 

She laughed again. 

 

“Voldemort wasn’t scary, he was pathetic.” 

 

“Then what was I for following him?” He was genuinely curious to hear her answer. 

 

His eyes focused on her, watching her face change as her cognitive wheels turned. Obviously she was carefully constructing a well thought-out answer. 

 

“I would say you were a puppet, perpetuating the filth and phlegm you were force-fed as a child. You didn’t know any better. You did whatever you could to gain your father’s approval and restore his pride in you.” 

 

“Anything else?” 

 

“I also think now that you’re an adult, you can try to make amends.” 

 

“So you don’t blame me for what I’ve done?” 

 

Hermione stopped digging for a second, as if picking her words carefully again.

 

“Some of it - yes, I do. Other parts - not really. I mean, I know it was a means to an end in Voldemort’s eyes and a way to gain your father’s approval, but it was still wrong and you still did a lot of horrible things.” 

 

“I know I did. I plan on turning over a new leaf when I return to Hogwarts.” 

 

“Good luck with that. You can’t win over admirers in a single day when they remember years of torture and torment.” 

 

He pretended to be unaffected by her candor.

 

“Is that why you slapped me?” Draco looked at her.

 

 “People don't change completely, Draco, especially not overnight.” 

 

“People might not, but snakes shed their old skin for new all the time.” 

 

Hermione stopped to look up at him, a faint smile on her lips.

 

_Blast him, he had a point._

 

 

Finally, they gave up. Draco grabbed his trousers and tore at the pant legs. When Hermione finally looked up at him again, he’d fashioned himself a sort of loincloth garment and Hermione nearly choked, a blush creeping up her neck. 

 

Merlin’s sakes, she couldn’t possibly be attracted to Malfoy, of all people! It went against everything she believed in. There was no way. Surely this was some sort of heat-induced temporary insanity? The very idea was absurd. But if that was how she felt, why did the sight of him nearly nude make her feel so hot under her bikini strings? 

 

She shook her head and then realized he was talking to her. When she shook her head, he looked confused. It was then that his voice registered in her head. 

 

“No? You don't think we should find some fruit? It might refresh us.” 

 

She blinked before nodding. 

 

“Y-Y-Yes, that sounds quite sensible.” 

 

Draco gazed at her, the faintest glimpse of concern on his face. 

 

“Are you alright, Granger?” 

 

She nodded and faked a smile. 

 

“Fine, I promise. The heat must be getting to me. I think I’m going to rebuild the tent and lie down for a while. Can you search near the clearing for some fruit? If you find it, I'll get it down after I wake up.” 

 

Draco looked at her hesitantly; then smiled, nodding. 

 

“Deal. Go rest.”

 

In that moment, between two warring spirits sparked a glimmer of friendship - and maybe more. 

 


	5. Growing Closer

Just about sundown, Hermione woke up. She stretched and tried to burrow deeper beneath the blanket. She crawled off the sofa and walked towards the tent opening. A fire was going a few feet from where she stood, and the rest of the clearing was deserted. Looking around, she noticed that even Little Draco was gone. She sighed and went to sit before the fire. 

 

The Dracos arrived shortly later; Draco carrying a skinned boar over his left shoulder, and some fruit in a makeshift satchel made from the jumper he’d been wearing. Hermione also noted the leash tied around Little Draco’s neck. She couldn’t contain herself, she giggled out loud. Who knew a wild boar would bring out the domesticated Draco? 

 

“Hungry?” he asked, plopping the boar down at her feet. 

 

“How did you manage that?” She gestured toward the boar and the accompanying fruit.

 

“I borrowed your knife.” He tossed it at her feet. 

 

“Who knew you could manage by yourself?” 

 

“I do hunt, Granger.” 

 

She couldn’t hide her shock. 

 

“You do?” 

 

He nodded, ignoring the look on her face. 

 

“Father may not have wanted to get his hands dirty, but he made sure I went hunting. It’s stupid, considering he was such a purist.” 

 

“Wow, Lucius Malfoy can’t sully his image, but he sends his son on muggle hunting trips?” 

 

“Mum suggested it. She thought it wise if I got into a fracas while out on Death Eater missions. Then Potter saved the bloody world and suddenly I have an entirely useless skill set…. Until now, of course.”

 

Hermione tried to hide her smile. 

 

“Of course.” 

 

He turned from her and entered the tent.. 

 

“Draco…” 

 

Turning back to her, he looked down, trying to keep his eyes on her face.

 

“Yeah?” 

 

Her gaze dropped.

 

“Thanks for getting food.” 

 

He smiled, a genuine smile, that Hermione noted, lit up his entire face. 

 

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Hermione.” 

 

“Goodnight.” 

 

When he was finally settled in his sleeping bag, he found his thoughts traveling towards the brunette who sat outside. They had only been on this island two days, and already his thoughts were changing about her. She was beautiful, that hadn’t changed; she was resourceful, she was smart, sarcastic, all of which he found appealing in a potential girlfriend. He knew, however, that he had his work cut out for him if he tried to pursue her. She hated his guts, with good reason, and she wasn’t like most of the other girls he fancied. Most of the company he kept could be bought with luxurious vacations and shiny jewelry. She was the kind of girl that required a dedicated effort and inexpensive, thoughtful dates that expanded their intelligence. Yes, she would definitely be his most difficult conquest. 

 


	6. Breaking Down Boundaries

Days passed. 

 

Neither Draco nor Hermione were sure how many days, but it had been several. They decided to keep the tent up instead of tearing it down and rebuilding it each night. Little Draco grew. Their wands remained missing. They encountered pelicans and other wildlife, several of which had Draco screeching and disappearing back to camp. But they made do. Draco remained positive that they would one day find their wands, hopefully before they were due to return to Hogwarts. 

 

Hermione taught Draco fishing, and Draco taught Hermione how to more efficiently gut smaller animals. Hermione wasn’t sure when it happened, but she noticed a change in Draco; he was helping out more and acting less entitled. He was impressing her. Admitting it was loathsome, but he was. It stuck in her craw that he’d niggled himself under her skin. She watched him with fondness now, instead of revulsion. 

 

During a particularly nasty storm, the sofa she’d been using for a bed ended up soaking wet, and Draco gave up his sleeping bag so she would stay warm. She didn't want to admit that it had warmed her heart. Showing her his sweet side was new, but she wasn’t complaining. She started to contemplate the potential of their future. If he had this facet of his personality buried deep inside, maybe he wasn't all bad. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, he was more Narcissa than Lucius. If that statement was true, he might just stand a chance.

 

 

 

More days passed before Hermione had an idea about why they weren't finding their wands. She reasoned that a bird or some other animal could’ve taken off with them as nesting material. Draco wasn't sure he believed that, but it was worth a shot. 

 

They were trekking through a dense stretch of forestry when a question struck him. 

 

“Say, Hermione, how are we going to find our wands if a bird has them?” he asked while she searched a tree. 

 

Her movements stopped as she turned to look at him. 

 

“Actually, I hadn’t thought of that. We can't exactly _accio_ our wands,” She shook her head, feeling defeated. “We’re never going to find them!” 

 

Draco moved to grab her hand. 

 

“We will find them. It will just take time.” 

 

Hermione looked at his hand holding hers and wrenched it away. 

 

“Stop it.” 

 

“I just want to help. You’re not going to be looking effectively if you’re upset.” 

 

“Then stop making me upset!” 

 

“I just think we should think rationally.” 

 

“I am thinking rationally!” 

 

“Stop trying to start an argument!” 

 

“I’m not trying to start an argument!” 

 

He felt anger bubble in his stomach but he tried to swallow it. A part of him wanted to shout at her, but he reminded himself it wouldn’t do either of them any favors. If they were going to get off this island, they had to communicate and work together. Surely they were capable of that.

 

“Do you have to be contrary every time I make a valid point?” 

 

“Isn’t that the entire basis for our coexistence, thus far?” 

 

“Who said that isn't subject to change?” 

 

“I did! I don't want to see you differently. I don't want things to change.” She wrenched away from him and kept walking. 

 

He stood still for a moment and thought about what she’d said. She didn't want things to change. She didn’t _want_ to see him differently. Merlin, did he have his work cut out for him! _Sodding confusing women_ , he thought to himself as he took off after her. 

 

“Hermione, wait… you can't go off alone!” 

 

At least half a metre ahead of him she stood at the bottom of a rather topsy-turvy waterfall. There was no pool for her to fall into. Draco wagered there was another long drop on the other side. He walked closer. 

 

“Yes, I can! I don't need an escort, Malfoy!” 

 

She backed up as he approached. 

 

“Hermione, why can't we at least be civil? Once we get to Hogwarts you can ignore me and go back to hating me if you wish, but we’re never going to get off this island if we don't work together!” His eyes were at her feet.  

 

“I am going to find my wand and then I am going to leave you here!” Her response was impassioned.  

 

So impassioned that she slipped and fell. 

 

When her head disappeared beneath the cliff’s edge, Draco’s heart dropped. He lurched forward and gazed over the edge. Hermione clung to a rock that jutted out of the cliffside about five feet down. Reaching out his hand, he tried to touch her. 

 

“Reach for my hand, I’ll pull you up!” 

 

“Not a chance! You’ll let me fall!” 

 

“No I won’t!” 

 

“Yes, you will!” 

 

“Hermione, if I wanted to rid the world of your bushy-haired, know-it-all swottiness, there are easier ways to do it. Now give me your bloody hand!” 

 

If it weren't for the impending doom, Draco was positive she would’ve crossed her arms in protest. 

 

“No.” 

 

“Fine.” 

 

He pushed himself up to standing. 

 

“Where are you going?” 

 

“To feed Draco Junior.” 

 

“What about me?” 

 

“What _about_ you? You don't want to give me your hand.”

 

“Draco! Draco, help me!!! Get back here!” 

 

What Hermione couldn't see, given her position, was Draco pulling down vines and and tying them together. Then he roped them around a stable tree trunk. He tied more vines together until he had enough length get close to her. Finally, he tied the vine around his waist, and backed down over the cliff side. Every placement of his foot was done carefully, until he reached her. 

 

“What are you doing?!” 

 

“Trying to save you. Come on, grab onto me.” 

 

“I thought you were going to let me fall.” 

 

“And forever be known as the man who killed the Brightest Witch of Her Age? No thanks. I’d like to avoid Azkaban. Now come on, enough talk. Muster your wits and grab hold.” 

 

“Are you really daft enough to think that those vines will hold both of us? I thought you said you were smart.”

 

“Alright, Cranky Pants, come here.” 

 

He shifted his weight, drawing himself closer to her. His hands went about her waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. 

 

“Have you lost your bloody mind? You’re going to drop me!” 

 

“You can either continue to whinge, or you can hold on. I'll need both my hands to climb up, to take some of the strain off the vines.”

 

Hermione gripped him tightly, holding on for dear life. But as promised, Draco almost expertly climbed the five feet back up to the cliff’s edge. His first move was to hoist her back on solid ground, following seconds later. He collapsed, face down beside her on the ground, both of their chests heaving. 

 

“You… you saved my life!” 

 

“You’re welcome.” 

 

“Why, did you save my life?” 

 

“Like I said, I don't want to go to Azkaban for murder.” 

 

“There has to be something else…”

 

Draco held up a hand. 

 

“Don't mention it. It was nothing. Just remember this: unlike my father, I don't collect joy from killing muggleborns.” 

 

 

Hermione didn't respond, but got up and walked back in the general direction of the camp. Draco followed solemnly. Her fall shook him up. Not only did he not want to see her fall because he didn't want to be blamed for her death, he would genuinely miss her. His fellow Slytherins would probably hate him for it, but he would. Their snarky banter back and forth was one thing that always made him smile when he remembered it. He didn't even look back upon memories of his father as fondly as he did their conversations. 

 

Upon arriving back at camp, Hermione curled up on the sofa and and turned away from Draco when he entered the tent. 

 

“Hermione, look, I-”

 

“Save it, Malfoy.”

 

“Fine. Stew all you want. But I wouldn't have let you fall. The world needs more women like you out there .” 

 

Not waiting for a reply, he picked up his sleeping bag and sat outside. He built a fire and sat, staring at it, petting Draco Junior . 

 

How could someone so brilliant be so closed-minded? He supposed there was probably a better word for it, but his mind was fuzzy. Laying down, he curled up with their small pig and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was in dreamland. 

 


	7. The Silent Treatment

In the days following, they didn't speak. Draco tried a few times, but he was met with a deafening silence. The only noises made were the animal sounds of the jungle and Draco Junior snorting and rooting around. Hermione moved about their camp as if he didn’t exist, making breakfast for herself, and then heading to the beach. He stayed behind a while, not wanting to anger her further. 

 

Meanwhile, Hermione cursed to herself as she dug through the sand, determined to get the hell away from Draco. Pulling up handfuls of more sand and seashells, Hermione punched the ground. All she wanted was to be away from him. There was probably a good week and a half before school started, and they were stuck on this bloody island together. Stranded, forced to cohabitate peacefully. She didn't want her heart to start beating faster when she caught sight of his slowly tanning abdominal muscles. It made her cringe, how she melted when he did something sweet that made her hate for him lessen. She wanted nothing more than things to stay the same --- she knew how she felt if she thought of him as a pompous, spoilt, crude, prejudiced - but: she just didn't. Not if she remembered his current behavior. Where in the blazes had this gentlemanly, caring, kind, rescuer-sort of character come from? 

 

Draco, no, not Draco - _Malfoy_ , she reminded herself. _Malfoy_ had turned her opinion of him ass-over-tit. He stopped calling her Granger, he didn’t pick arguments with her anymore, he just didn’t hate her anymore. She wondered for a moment if making him hate her again was possible…. 

 

Just as Hermione was pondering this thought, Draco appeared at the treeline. She felt a shiver crawl up her spine. He made his way toward her. 

 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” 

 

“Well, hello to you too! I just thought I’d come see if I could find our wands again. Any luck?”

 

“Do you think if I’d had any luck I would still be here right now?” She hoped he would be angry with her. 

 

He just smiled as he collapsed onto the sand beside her. 

 

“Probably not. You’d have apparated out of here so fast you’d probably have splinched yourself.” 

 

“I do NOT splinch!”

 

“What about what happened to Weasley?” 

 

“Who told you about that?” 

 

“Word gets around when you save the world. Stories get told.”

 

“Well, to be fair, that wasn’t me splinching _myself_ , that was me splinching Ron.” 

 

“Still, you splinched someone in a hurry. If you hurried out of here, how do you know you wouldn’t splinch yourself?” 

 

“Because I know I wouldn't.” 

 

“I bet you never thought you would splinch Weasley either...but you did, eventually. Little Miss Perfect splinched Mister Wonderful.” 

 

“Malfoy, did you come down here just to annoy me?” 

 

“Me? Annoy you? Perish the thought! I never set out to annoy you Hermione, it just happens.” He buffed his nails against his pecs and examined them. 

 

Hermione wanted to cringe and scowl, to fight the smile that itched at the corner of her mouth. 

 

“What happened to ‘Granger’?” 

 

“I find I much prefer calling you Hermione.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“I don't particularly know. Just a personal preference, I suppose, given our new level of intimacy.”

 

Hermione turned to face him and nearly choked with laughter.

 

“Intimacy? _Intimacy_? What bloody intimacy?!” 

 

“Living together and overall cohabitation is a step most couples take that brings them to a newfound level of intimacy that often perpetuates the evolution of their relationship. They either fold under the pressure and go their separate ways, or they end up happily married with a quidditch team’s-worth of offspring.”

 

“A couple? Since when have we ever been a couple?”

 

“We’re a _couple_ of Heads as far as Hogwarts goes. We’re either destined to be great together, or Hogwarts will implode due to our working together.” 

 

Hermione looked back at the sand and burst into laughter.

 

“I think the whole world would implode.” 

 

He smiled upon seeing her own toothy smile.

 

“Probably.” 

 

“Who are you, anyway? Doctor Ruth?”

 

“Who’s that?” 

 

“She’s this tiny woman who offers sex and marital advice to couples via a radio show. She’s a muggle.” Hermione nearly whispered the last part. 

 

“She sounds barmy. Besides, don't blame me for my gibberish. I found the book amongst your things while cleaning the inside of the tent. I got bored and started reading.” 

 

“Poor Malfoy,” she shot back sardonically.

 

“That’s Draco, darling.” 

 

Her head shot up. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I said, my name is Draco, darling. You might want to start using it in place of my surname if we’re to be married, one day.” 

 

He bounded across the beach away from her as she picked up two handfuls of sand, laughing hysterically. 

 

“I will **KILL** you, Malfoy!” she howled. 

 

“You would miss me and we both know it! “ 

 

“Not from this range! I should hit my target perfectly well!” 

 

She lobbed a handful of sand at him, which he dodged as if it was the killing curse. Nearly falling on his arse, he picked up two handfuls as well and launched one across the beach at her. Hermione squealed and ditched toward the water. Draco dropped his sand and took off after her. Just as her painted toes hit the water, Draco’s arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her into the air. He raced into the water with her over his shoulder. 

 

“Put me down, Malfoy!!!” She beat her balled fists into the sinewy muscles of his back. 

 

He ignored her protests as he dropped her into the waist-deep water. Sputtering and seething, Hermione surfaced and stared up at him angrily. Then she realized he was watching her. His arm twitched as if he wanted to do something but was resisting. 

 

Draco loved the way her curls fell across her forehead, and still he wanted to see her eyes. Her eyes were always so striking. His hand fidgeted at his side as he fought the urge to reach up and push her hair out of her face. The eye contact was fierce. Her expression was a mixture of lighthearted jubilance and stubborn irritation. 

 

“Hermione, I’ve wanted to talk to you for days. I-I-I don’t know how to interpret what’s going on between us, but I know you feel it. I-I know you don't want to, but I also know you do. What’s it going to take for you to stop fighting this?” 

 

Draco gestured between their heaving chests. Hermione’s entire face changed and placed her arms across her chest, guarding herself. She looked like she was deciding whether to be sincere or smug. Judging by the way her mouth was morphing into a scowl, he reckoned he knew which she was going to pick 

 

“A miracle,” she bit out. 

 

In one swift motion, she moved around him and stomped back towards the beach. Draco spun around after her. 

 

“Hermione! Hermione, come on!” 

 

He watched from the water as she began digging in the sand furiously. Jogging back toward shore, he continued calling for her. She was doing her damndest to ignore his pleas. Fistful after fistful she kept digging. 

He finally reached her. 

 

“Hermione, come on let’s talk about this.”

 

Standing finally, she dusted her palms off on her bare tummy and let her gaze climb to his face. 

 

“I don’t want to talk.”

 

“But why?”

 

“Draco, this is ludicrous. It defeats all sense of logic. A few days on some damned deserted island and suddenly you’re in love with me? It doesn’t happen that fast, except with magical help. And I still refuse to believe you’ve completely shed your ‘Death Eater’ skin.” 

 

“I get that. But honestly, the more time I spend with you, the more I realise that I’ve been in love with you for years. There are so many things I envy about you, and things I’ve professed to hate, I’ve now come to thoroughly enjoy. I _love_ that when we’re together, I don’t feel like the only smart person in the room! Around my ilk, I feel that all the time. I _love_ that you pay more attention to your personal library than the latest fashions strutting off the runways in Milan! I _love_ that you are so uniquely different from anyone else I’ve ever experienced! Unlike most girls, you leave me wanting more! I’ve never felt that! Why can’t you just openly admit that you feel the same way?! I face ridicule and isolation and being shunned for even expressing my bloody feelings to you if any of my fellow Slytherins find out, but I don't give a pile of centaur shit! I find myself falling in love with you more and more with every passing day we’re on this gods-forsaken island!” 

 

Hermione slapped him for no other reason than to shut him up. 

 

“Would you just stop?! Why can’t we just keep things the way they were? Why do you suddenly want to change things and turn the world upside down?! After all we’ve been through, you want to throw more wrenches into the small fabric of normalcy that I cling to?! I don't care if you _think_ you love me! I don't understand why everyone wants destroy the smallest sense of security I have! Snape was a good guy all this time instead of bad, Harry’s suddenly secretly in love with the _wrong_ Weasley and they're running off to America on some stupid adventure, Ginny has a thing for Blaise and is displaying it in every public locale they can think of, Seamus and Dean have been dating since _fourth year_ , and now the final knife in my bloody coffin--- Draco sodding Malfoy is in love with me! What did I do to deserve this topsy-turvy ludicrousness?! What’s next?! Did Dumbledore not really die?! I want things to go back to how they were before Voldemort waged war on Hogwarts! At least then, I knew how things were supposed to be!” She stamped her foot and shrieked. 

 

“Let me show you that these changes can be good! We can work on this! We can build on the crumbled chaos that is our childhood and start afresh!” 

 

Hermione scoffed. 

 

“Building new on a crumbling foundation will only cause weak walls.” 

 

She turned and stalked away from him down the beach. Draco stood there, completely befuddled. How many times during their time here was he going to be baffled by this woman’s actions? Not knowing what to do, Draco made his way back to camp. Maybe Draco Junior would be receptive of his affection. 

 


	8. Going Home

Draco sat at camp and stewed while waiting for Hermione to return. _If_ she decided to return, that was. She hadn't come back yet, and it had been at least two hours. Draco wasn’t sure how to react to this information. She hadn’t admitted she felt the same way, but she hadn't denied it, either. She’d only said she didn't want things to change. He understood being scared of change; he was positively frightened when his father decided to put Voldemort before himself and his mother. But they couldn’t be ruled by their fears. If they let those hold them back, they could miss out on something amazing.  

 

After another hour, Draco abandoned hope and retired to the tent, opting for the sofa. It was a few minutes before he realized what a mistake it was. The sofa smelled like her and it surrounded him. A part of him wanted to bury his face into the sofa and pretend it was her soft, sweet flesh. 

 

 

He finally managed to drift off when something dropped onto his bare stomach. 

 

“Wake up.” 

 

His eyes slowly shuttered open to find Hermione standing over him. When he saw the expression on her face, he nearly shot out of bed.

 

“What’s wrong?” 

 

Hermione was staring at him. After a beat, he noticed that she had dropped something thin onto him. His eyes bulged as he stared down at his wand. 

 

“You found them?!” 

 

“I found yours.” 

 

“What about yours? Shouldn't it be close?” 

 

“I don't know. All I know is that I can’t find it. But you should get home. Your parents are probably completely certifiable with worry. Their world stops when their precious heir isn’t around.” 

 

“I’m not leaving you here alone. We’ll stay until we find your wand, and then we can go our separate ways.” 

 

“We could always apparate to Diagon Alley and I can see if Ollivander can find me a new wand,” she suggested. 

 

Draco ignored the feeling that she was rushing him off because she hated him. 

 

“No, I’ll stay until you have a way home.” 

 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Draco stopped her by holding up a hand. “For once in your life, don’t argue with me. I’m not doing this just because I care about you, I’m doing this because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do. My mother would slaughter me if I was ever anything less than a gentleman. I will not leave you here alone. We leave together.” He stood beside her and grasped her hand. 

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

She was screaming internally. 

 

“We’re going to the beach to find your wand. Come on.” 

 

He dragged her from the tent and headed toward the beach. Hermione tried several times remove her hand from his, but Draco was too strong. When they reached the beach, Draco sat her on the rock he had sat on days before and began casting _Expelliarmus_ randomly, hoping to hit her wand.

 

“That’s not going to work.” She advised from her perch. 

 

“Perhaps not, but it was worth a shot.” 

 

Turning away from her, he began trying any spell that came to mind. 

 

“You can't use _Expelliarmus_ because you aren't disarming a person.” 

 

“Thank you for the commentary on my casting, Professor Granger,” he replied snidely. 

 

“ _Accio_ Hermione’s wand!” He tried.

 

Hermione looked unimpressed as nothing happened. Draco was thoroughly puzzled. He took off back toward camp, leaving Hermione in the dust. She followed behind him quickly. He was positive it was so she could further critique his spell-casting skills, but if it got them off this island, he didn’t care. 

 

“You know Malfoy, there is a locator spell you could use.”

 

“How do you know about it and I don't?” 

 

Hermione smiled as she trailed behind him a few steps. 

 

“I created it.” 

 

Draco turned around and almost smacked her with his wand because she was so close. 

“You created a spell? When?” 

 

He turned back around to cast _Accio_ again. 

 

“When Harry, Ron and I were on the run. I didn’t use it often, but you could use it to locate my wand. It might save us a century.” 

 

Draco rolled his eyes at her comment. 

 

“Just because you got higher marks than me in every subject does _not_ mean you’re smarter than me, Hermione.” 

 

He heard her snort in response. 

 

“I’m not saying I’m smarter than you. I was just saying it might save us time,” she explained. 

 

“Whatever. I’ll find it myself. Go back to camp. I’ll let you know when I find it.” 

 

Hermione stopped a few metres away from him and struck a defiant pose, her arms folded in front of her bikini and one hip jutted out to the side. She could take this time to argue, but she decided not to. They’d spent almost their entire time here arguing. They were almost home, so she bit her tongue against the arguments bouncing around inside her head. 

 

“Fine.” 

 

She turned and walked back towards camp. Draco didn’t turn around; he just kept moving forward. 

 

 

_Meanwhile, back at camp_

 

Hermione stomped out her frustration as she walked back to the tent, plopping down to the ground outside it in exasperation. She hated how he dismissed her so easily! Granted, he was the only one who would be able to find her wand, but that didn’t mean she couldn't be of some help, somehow. He just wanted to treat her like a bloody damsel in distress. She was a celebrated war heroine, for Godric’s sake! 

 

The sound of Draco Junior rustling through the ground foliage stirred Hermione from her thoughts. She looked up and noticed him digging at a spot in the earth with his hooves. 

 

“Draco Junior, what are you doing?” 

 

She walked over to the pig and watched him a moment more. His hooves kept raking over the same twig. Hermione thought it looked oddly familiar. 

 

“ _My wand_?! What the hell are you doing with it, you little troublemaker?” 

 

She bent down and picked Draco Junior up, then bent to retrieve her wand. 

 

_What was it doing here?_

 

Her next move was to put the boar down and look her wand over. 

 

“You sneaky little pig! I can’t believe you hid it from me! Merlin, we should let Draco know.” 

 

Hermione took off at a run, deeper into the jungle. The scenery she’d become accustomed to blurred as she picked up speed. 

 

Hearing a growl, all time stopped. Her feet dug deeper into ground. Gooseflesh rose along her arms and an uneasy feeling lodged in her stomach. Turning in a full circle, she searched for the source of the sound. As she waited, stone-stiff, a roar echoed off the tree trunks. A pathetic screech of terror echoed. She recognized it straight away, and followed the sound. What she found petrified her more than the sight of Voldemort ever could have. 

 

Draco was pinned against a large boulder, a black bear blocking his escape. She tried to get his attention but he was fixated on the sharp, saliva-slicked teeth gnashing in his direction. Hermione gripped her wand, wracking her brain for the proper spell to use on the large beast. Any number of them would work: _Stupefy_ would stun him, _Petrificus Totalus_ would do the same for longer, and _Wingardium Leviosa_ would let her throw something at him. 

 

“ _Stupefy_!” Draco yelled suddenly. 

 

The bear roared, and somehow the spell missed. She watched as he cast several other spells at the animal, all of which missed, as well. She reckoned it was because of nerves. Nerves could severely affect your ability to cast properly. 

 

 

“ _Petrificus Totalus_!” Hermione howled, a blue light emitting from the tip of her wand. 

 

The spell hit the bear between the shoulder blades, and the animal stiffened and fell to the ground. Draco looked up, and a wave of relief crossed his face. He tiptoed around the bear. Once in the clear, he ran to Hermione and enveloped her in his arms. He lifted her off the ground and squeezed her tightly. When he sat her back down, he spoke. 

 

“Thank you!” He stared down at her as she smiled up at him. 

 

“No problem. Now we’re even.” 

 

“How did you find your wand?”

 

“Draco Junior had been hiding it all this time! Just as I got back to camp, he was digging at it. I picked it up and then came to find you, and it looks like it was perfect timing. I’m glad you’re alright.” 

 

Draco was staring at her lips while she spoke, as though transfixed. 

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, snaking his arms around her waist.  

 

Caught up in the moment, Hermione allowed the closeness. Draco’s hands rested just above her bum and pulled her to him. His left hand trailed up her side, causing her to quiver as it made its way to rest against her jaw. Their eyes met and she saw adoration in his. He bent down and captured her lips quickly. Hermione melted into his arms and eagerly returned the kiss . His right hand cupped her rump, bringing Hermione back to Earth. She placed her hands flat against his chest and pushed him away. Draco looked at her in disbelief. 

 

“What was that!?” Rage flashed in her eyes.

 

“I was thanking you for saving me.”

 

“Don’t mention it, ever. Saving you is not a reason to snog me.” 

 

“Most women would just say thank you.” 

 

“Yeah, well, I’m not most women,” she shot back. 

 

Draco watched as she stomped away from him for the second time that day.

 

“Don't I know it,” he said, turning to head to camp.

 

When he got there, she had vanished and camp was deserted, save for Draco Junior.

 

 _Way to screw it up Malfoy,_ he thought dejectedly. His perfect girl was gone.


	9. Back to Reality

Hermione settled in to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place easily. Harry and Ron made themselves scarce after their initial fussing over her upon her resurfacing in civilization. They knew she was still mad at them, and so they mostly left her alone to prepare for her make-up year at Hogwarts. As much as she hated all the changes that were going on, she hated the solitude more.Having read all her books twice already, company never came calling now that life was returning to normal. Except Molly, who had nearly smothered her upon her return. 

 

The young witch was left in the Black family house by her lonesome for more time than she was comfortable. When Mrs. Black wasn't wailing about a mudblood staying in her house, Hermione was left to the torture chamber of her own mind, tirelessly replaying the events that transpired on the island. The last kiss she and Draco had shared most intricately. Her head and her heart seemed to be warring beneath her skin. A part of her didn’t want to see him differently; she wanted to keep things the same as they’d always been. But her heart yearned to have his company in the captivity that were these walls. Denial was not just a river in Egypt - she liked the feeling that kissing him gave her. She felt lightheaded and jelly-legged. He knocked the wind out of her lungs, and set her stomach aflutter. She wanted his witty retorts, his snarky banter, his pale abs and the genuine smile that had made his face light up as her company in this dark, dreary shell of a house. It was a scary thing to covet your former nemesis’s company over your closest friends. 

 

When she laid in bed, she longed to smell Draco’s cologne as she changed position, but not even a whiff blew her way - only dust and furniture polish. She never thought such a thing would be possible, but she actually _missed_ Draco Malfoy. What had the island done to her? 

 

 

Meanwhile, behind the walls of Malfoy Manor, Draco laid in bed, naked, imagining the kiss before they had returned to reality. He’d felt her melt into him. She became putty in his hold. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. There was no denying - the witch captivated him in a way no other woman did. He was suddenly made painfully aware of how she really affected him. Slipping his hand beneath the sheet covering him, he gently rubbed himself, eyes closed, picturing how Hermione’s bosom bounced as she ran toward him and in the water. Next, he imagined pushing the triangles of fabric aside and caressing the bare flesh of her breasts. His hand sped up as his imagination ran wild. He was moments away from release when...

 

 **BAM**!!!! 

 

The door to his personal suite banged open dramatically, and his personal house elf, Halley, named after the famous comet, stormed in. His mother followed. Draco leapt up and consequently fell to the floor, taking the sheet with him. Standing and trying to cover himself, he looked up at his mother.

 

“Mum, I’m seventeen bloody years old! Don’t you think you could do me a courtesy and, oh, I don't know, **KNOCK** before entering my room? I was in the middle of something...private.” 

 

His face fell, not wanting to admit to his mother what that private something was. Narcissa just giggled. 

 

“Draco darling, it’s not like it’s anything I’ve never seen before. You’re built like your father in almost every way.”

 

“Oh Mum, gross.”

 

“Now, now.. Halley and I have come to deal with that… that... _pig_ , and put it where livestock is commonly housed...outside.” 

 

“Mum, I told you, Little Draco is staying here with me. He eats mostly the same things we do anyway, and I have two toilets. One can be his pen, the other for my use. He is not being thrust outside like some common pig for slaughter! He is my pet,” Draco rambled, sitting himself on the edge of his bed. 

 

The pig in question,was currently rooting around Narcissa’s expensive booties. 

 

“It’s simply unsanitary, Draco. Pigs and other fauna are meant to roam outside, not in a home. Especially not one of our stature.” 

 

“Mum, I’ll be leaving for Hogwarts in a few days. Can’t you let me have this one thing? I’ll be gone before you know it, and I’ll be taking him with me.” 

 

He stared up at his mother, using the same look he used to get his way as a child. Narcissa stared down at her son, trying to stay firm. But if there was anything Narcissa couldn’t stand, it was seeing her son want for something. She sighed, and her shoulders sagged. 

 

“Fine. But the house elves are ordered to do all the other housework. He is your responsibility,” she demanded, her tone exuding finality. 

 

Draco nodded. 

 

“That’s fine.” 

 

He laid back down on his bed. Narcissa cleared her throat and nodded to the house elf at her feet. 

 

“Come Halley, let’s leave my son and his pet alone.”

 

The small elf nodded. 

 

“Yessum.” 

 

They left his room, and when the door clicked shut, Draco rolled over and sighed. His pillow was so soft, it again reminded him of her flesh. He buried his face in his pillow, inhaling only his expensive cologne, wishing it was her stomach or her chest he was laying his head upon, her intoxicating scent invading his nostrils.The thought made him roll over onto his back. 

 

“You’re losing it, Draco. Let it go, she doesn’t feel the same way. No use pining over an unforgiving Gryffindor.” 

 

His eyes fell closed and images of her flashed before his closed lids. Her smile, her hair, how gentle she had been with Draco Junior...but older images, too. Her close friendship with Longbottom, her Save the House Elves campaign that he called ‘stupid,’ but had really seen potential for, her inane curiosity and brilliance... Merlin’s sake - he missed her. He couldn’t wait to get back to Hogwarts. 

 


	10. Train Day

Hermione woke up late on September first. She made sure everything was packed the night before, but spent the night thinking about him, and how to handle their new cohabitation inside the castle walls. Wondering if he still thought about her had kept her up a good portion of the night. So when her alarm sounded at nine o’clock, she bolted out of bed. Well, breakfast with the Weasleys was shot. 

 

After stretching, she dressed in her comfiest jeans, her trainers and a old band t-shirt with the muggle band The Ramones on it. She jogged down the stairs and entered the kitchen. A covered plate was sitting on the counter beside the sink; atop it was a scrap of parchment. Hermione picked it up and smiled when she read it.

 

_When you didn't show up round the table, I had Ginny pop over with a spot of breakfast. Have a great first week back at Hogwarts._

 

_\--Molly_

 

Taking the lid off filled her nostrils with the smell of fresh pancakes with warm maple syrup and butter. Hermione’s stomach growled hungrily as she dug through a drawer for a fork. Finding one, she ate quickly, then gathered her belongings from her room. Unlike most of her classmates, she took a taxi to King’s Cross. She reckoned she would need as much time as possible to mull over her thoughts before facing Draco again. 

 

So much was still unanswered in her head. She knew a few things; she knew she would have to be the one to make the next move, because given her past two rejections, he wasn't likely to put himself out there a third time. She knew that she was starting to see him differently but she was conflicted about the whole thing. 

 

As her taxi pulled up to the station, she’d made up her mind.

 

 

 

 

Draco had been roused from his Hermione-centric dreams by Halley, urging him to take care of Draco Junior, who’d begun snorting around daybreak. He nodded and waved the elf away with no small amount of irritation. Growling, he rolled onto back and rubbed his eyes. Today was the day he and the woman who captivated his very existence would be reunited. Above everything else, he wanted it all to go well. 

 

The blond man climbed from his bed, donning a pair of muggle jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a old quidditch jumper. His mum might have a fit, but he was seventeen now, and he was going to dress how he wanted. He slipped on some new trainers and made sure his trunk was packed and Draco Junior had everything he needed. 

 

The first thing Draco had done when he came home, more to escape his mother’s mindless nattering over ‘her darling boy’ than anything, was go to the Magical Menagerie and see what he needed for the small pig. A black grommeted collar and leash caught his eye. His pet pig was sporting the said collar as the two Dracos strutted into the dining room for breakfast. Narcissa choked while Lucius thumbed through the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. Draco ignored his mother’s outburst and sat down at the table quietly. 

 

House elves brought him a plate of assorted fruits and a bowl of oatmeal, with a chilled goblet of pumpkin juice. 

 

“So, Draco, are you excited for your first day back at Hogwarts?” Lucius asked. 

 

Draco’s face was plastered in surprise as his gaze met his father’s. He cleared his throat as his father looked at him with pointed interest. It caused Draco to nod. 

 

“Erm, yes Father, I’m quite excited at the prospect of returning.” 

 

Lucius studied his son a moment before nodding and going back to his paper.

 

“You should be dressed like a proper gentleman, not like a...a…” 

 

Draco looked to his mother.

 

“A muggle?” he supplied. 

 

Narcissa turned a stern look on her son. 

 

“A HOODLUM! That’s what! Cavorting about like this.”

 

“Mum, I’m an adult. Besides, I like them.” 

 

“You look like a commoner.” 

 

The clock chimed ten o’clock. 

 

“I’d best get moving. I want to make sure I have plenty of time before the train leaves.” 

 

He finished his breakfast in between words and got up from the table. 

 

“Goodbye Father, Mother.” 

 

Lucius barely looked up but nodded. 

 

“Have a good year, son.” 

 

Narcissa looked between her two men and scowled. 

 

“You’re just going to let him leave the house like that? What about keeping up appearances?” Narcissa asked. 

 

Her husband looked up long enough to give his wife a bored look. 

 

“Narcissa, any ‘appearances’ that were necessary to keep up flew out the window the day the Dark Lord was defeated. I’m content staying as far under the radar as possible after that embarrassment. Besides, he is an adult. We can’t control him anymore.” 

 

Narcissa looked as though she might burst. She looked between the two men and then turned back to her breakfast. 

 

“Have a good school year, darling.” 

 

Draco padded over to his mother and kissed his mother’s head gently, then exited the dining room. By the time he made it to the main fireplace to Floo to Knockturn Alley, Halley had all his belongings and Draco Junior waiting by the hearth. 

 

“Thank you, Halley. Here’s a few Sickles.” He slipped the coins to the small house elf.  

 

The little elf’s eyes tripled in size when she realized what her master had given her. She looked up at him with curiosity present in her features. The blond just smiled at her.

 

“Don’t tell Master Malfoy,” Draco winked. 

 

Halley nodded and Draco levitated his things through the Floo, throwing Floo powder into the flames. They turned green and his luggage disappeared. Next he picked up Draco Junior in the small wire pen he bought, and stepped over the hearth to Floo himself. Fisting a bit of powder he tossed it to his feet.

 

“Knockturn Alley,” he said firmly. 

 

The flames roared green a second time and Draco was gone. 

 

At fifteen minutes shy of eleven, Draco resurfaced at King’s Cross station, using a trolley for his luggage so his hands weren't full. He sped past the other platforms, heading for the space between Nine and Ten. Reaching it, he made sure the area was clear of muggles and ran straight at the wall. Draco Junior squealed as they made contact with the wall, but his protests were soon drowned out by the whistle of the Hogwarts Express. Draco sighed.

 

Now, to find the woman he loved. Traveling down the platform, he dropped off his luggage and Draco Junior and decided to look for her. 

 

His eyes roamed up and down the platform, finding no sign of her bushy hair. Steam billowed up from below and Draco looked more frantically around him. He was running out of time. It was almost eleven. Then something dawned on him.

 

_Of course! On the train, you bloody idiot!_

 

Barreling toward one of the doors, he leapt onto the train just as the whistle sounded again. _The Heads’ compartment_. He searched through clusters of younger students as he went, sure that she would be helping one of them. But he found her nowhere. 

 

Finally, when he reached the Heads compartment, he found her. She was sitting on one side of the compartment with her legs and feet tucked underneath her, nose buried in a book he didn’t recognize named _Treasure Island._ Slowly, he opened the door. Her head popped up as he did. 

 

Draco couldn’t believe she had gotten more beautiful in their time apart. The sun that filtered through the window made her hair shine and her skin was only slightly tanned now, but she was somehow more beautiful. She shifted under his gaze. 

 

“...Hello, Draco. I-I-I’ve been waiting, erm, for you.” 

 

A small smile toyed at his lips. _She’d been waiting for him?_

 

“Listen, Hermione, I just wanted to apologize, uh, for my behavior on the island. I was stupid and impulsive. I…” 

 

Hermione stood and watched him as his voice died. 

 

“Draco, it’s ok, listen, I…” 

 

“...I should have listened to you and stayed away, I… I just…”

 

“Draco, really… I understand. Listen, I wanted to…” 

 

“Hermione I acted like a brute, and I swear that isn’t me anymore… I…” 

 

Hermione cut him off by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling their lips together. Draco’s arms latched around her waist on instinct and pulled her closer. Suddenly, he pulled away. Hermione stared up at him as he touched his fingers to his lips. 

 

“You...you kissed me!” The surprise was evident in his voice. 

 

“Well yeah, I had to find some way to shut you up! Seems like it worked. Listen, Draco, I want to tell you that I feel the same way. I don't know why, and the very idea of being in love with you frightens me, but I am in love with you. These past few days without your constant prissy boy whinging and your sarcastic comebacks have been miserable. The entire time I’ve been back, all I wanted was to have you with me so I didn’t feel so alone. I _missed_ you, something I never thought was possible. So, I’m here to tell you that I love you too.”

 

Draco was utterly gobsmacked. After letting that information sink in for a moment, he embraced her again, squeezing her tightly. 

 

“Oh, thank Merlin! I’d been going mad in the Manor without you,” he replied, letting out a heaving sigh. 

 

Taking this moment to envelop himself in her smell and her person, he lifted her off the floor and wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands rested underneath her bum so he could stare directly into her eyes - he’d missed them so. 

 

“You know, this position could get quite naughty.” 

 

Draco tried to hide his laugh. 

 

“So you _did_ want to shag me on the island! I knew it!” 

 

Hermione laughed and touched their noses. 

 

“Well duh, Malfoy, I’m not blind,” she teased. 

 

Draco joined her laughter. 

 

“Nor am I. Still have the bikini?” 

 

Her head fell back as she laughed, her curls cascading behind her. 

 

“Darn it! I think I left it back at Grimmauld Place.”

 

“Don’t tease me, woman! I will pay the conductor to turn this train around,” he quipped playfully. 

 

“Does it really matter if it will end up coming off, anyway?”

 

“Listen, Granger, I’ve been dreaming about that bikini and everything underneath of it for a week. It matters.” 

 

Hermione laughed again, drawing her wand and casting a glamour charm over their compartment, so they wouldn't be discovered. She tossed her wand onto the cushions and pulled her shirt over her head, baring herself to him. Draco let out a sigh of complete abandon. 

 

“Perfection - just as expected. So now, where were we when we got interrupted during that last kiss?” 

 

He bent to kiss her neck sweetly. Hermione moaned quietly. 

 

“Down boy, save something for the common room! We have the whole year together.” 

 

Draco let his lips leave her neck only to respond “Well, then let’s get started,” as he bent to lay her down on the seat she’d been occupying when he arrived. 

 

It would be a very eventful train ‘ _ride_ ,’ indeed. 


End file.
